A Bad Dream
by mspotts
Summary: ONESHOT: His heat calls to her, even in sleep... JxB,ExB


**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Twilight series. Stephanie Meyer does, not me.**

**

* * *

**

A Bad Dream

The heat was everywhere; powerful, all consuming heat, the type that made her pale skin flush and her body stir unwillingly in the bed sheets – as if she was in heat, lost and totally out of control of herself. To her surprise it managed to sear through her – _her!_ She who was by now so attuned to the cold that the heat should despise her, should be repelled by her very touch really, and yet the contact between the naturally opposing forces was made within her, and the eventual sensation it produced was amazingly sweet.

Fire entered her.

The blazing touch of warmth was so unlike the stinging feel of ice that she was unintentionally surprised – wasn't fire supposed to burn? – and she also couldn't help feeling a little cheated. Like her knowledge had betrayed her.

Apparently fire wasn't her enemy after all.

The strength of it was unnerving, like a tidal wave of pure lava bearing down on a weakened sea-shore. It was scary, terrifying and filled with passion, yet she couldn't deny that it made her feel things. And although she wanted to resist _so much_…

… _It felt_ so_ good…_

It blazed beneath her skin, heating her blood and causing a heavy _thud, thud thud_, to thrum below her ribcage. The flames were wild, rough and untamed, and although she couldn't help a smidgen of fear seeping into her soul, she knew deep down that she wouldn't get hurt. He wouldn't hurt her, he couldn't. He loved her enough that she was sure of it, knew it deep within her bones.

…_And the flames licked, but they didn't burn, just like he had always promised they wouldn't… _

And for once she realised she had no fear.

No fear of pain, or love, no fear of anything really. In this moment she found that she could just _be_, because everything had always been so simple with him, without struggles or difficulties – he made life so easy with just one carefree smile. All she had now was a deep-rooted longing for him that tore up her insides, and melted the frozen ice statue her heart had become.

…_And there he stood the embodiment of all that was heat; possibly the central focus of her entire existence if she'd let him, just like the sun was supposed to be…_

"Jacob," she whispered, groaning.

Her palms were slick with sweat, her frail body rolling on the large bed, recoiling and rebounding instantly from an icy touch because it felt _wrong_, because it wasn't _him_…

_And because…well, no matter how much her mind tried to deny it, he was…well, Jacob was…hot._

_And there wasn't much she could do about it._

"_Bella…"_

He was walking towards her, a dream figure created by her mind. His smile was pure gold because it was so him, so truthful and honest and so forgiving. Everything about him seemed to make her wither away at the seams, untangling all that she wanted to be true, that she – honest to God – thought was true. _Jacob._ Her love for him was inadequate in comparison to the love she had for the _other_ but she still couldn't gather the strength to let go…

…_Tall, but not imposing, young but not naive, strong but still gentle…_

A voice interrupted her dream-musings, a voice so tantalisingly smooth, like silken cloth wrapping itself slowly around her senses, enveloping her in its dangerous grasp.

"Bella."

She frowned unconsciously, her body responded to the sound but her mind was still firmly stuck in the blissfully sensual dream she was having.

…_He hugged her tightly, whispering sweet words in her ear. Bells, Bells, I love you, come back to me – I need you… _It hurt her to hear him like this, and knowing that she was wrapped in his embrace but could do nothing to soothe his pain hurt more than she'd thought it could. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes and she sniffed pathetically. She'd already made her choice, so why was everything still so _hard_?

…_Hovering on the edge of her vision was the murky shape of a reddish-brown wolf, its eyes simply watching. Waiting to see what she would do…_

"Bella…"

The shimmering haze of sleep was fading; gradually she realised that there was someone shaking her roughly, almost hard enough to be painful.

…_the wolf stood to the side, tension radiating from its large form, and wearing an expression of absolute fear. It occurred to her that a wolf shouldn't be able to show such emotion so clearly, and then suddenly it was the wolf no longer, but the wolf-boy, bearing a face of such agony that it was hurting her to even look at him…_

Somehow she could sense it, that it was her fault he was hurting. "Jacob!" she called out desperately, her arms reaching out to him with a wildness that bordered on the deranged. The wolf's tension had affected her, making her feel the intensity of the moment. Something important was at stake here, something crucial. She knew had to get to him, to talk to him, to make things better between them._ Before it's too late… _

"Bella, _please!_"

She woke up, her eyelids fluttering open unhurriedly while all memories of her previous dream disappeared into the hidden depths of her mind, forever disregarded and forgotten. She looked up and the angel's face she saw was troubled, uncharacteristically so, which made her heart leap and do silly little panicky things in her chest.

"Edward? What-what's the matter?" She tried to sit up but he blocked her with his steel-like arms. "Why did you wake me – is something wrong? What's going on?!"

The second she'd spoken, his worried expression had evaporated into mist, to be replaced by one of supreme adoration and devotion, the kind that only he could produce.

"Hush, love," he soothed her, gently laying her back down under the covers. His melodious voice whispered softly in her ear, a harsh contrast to the iron grip of his body. "You should go back to sleep. It was only a bad dream."

_A bad dream…_

"Okay," she yawned sleepily, and relaxed into his hard arms, too tired to wonder why she felt so unbearably cold all of a sudden.

--

**Was that too obscure? I don't know – I'm a bad critic of my work. Do me a favour and help me out (review, review!) **


End file.
